Disclaimer: I own nothing…. sadly.
This is my first story published on the web. If you like it, please review, so that I may know whether or not to continue writing. Flames are accepted but not very helpful in the process of improving ones writing, so please try to elaborate your likes and dislikes…
Also, if you would like to know the complete story between the two let me know and maybe I will find the courage to publish it here.
This takes place sometime during the fifth or sixth book, though I am leaning towards the latter. It is an attempt at giving Severus Snape some happy moments before his death.
Retreat
There, in his dark billowing robes, a tall figure awaited her arrival. There was no hesitation in her walk as she followed him through the meandering labyrinth of passages that went deeper and deeper into the core of the world where no eyes could reach, no magic and no mind could find and conceive that one might go. There at the uptenth passage after the millionth niche there was finally a door. He opened it with far too little effort for the fact that it looked untouched for centuries and held it opened for her to enter. After the first step, the dingy, dreary atmosphere of the dungeons was replaced by total and absolute darkness. His long, firm fingers drift down her spine and guide her further into the room. The all too sensual caress makes her brain stop dead in its tracks while her senses go into overdrive so that she is oblivious to the sudden flood of light that invades the room. Her mind regains its function when his hand leaves her back and her every nerve ending in her body yearns for the return of his touch. She turns to him and as their eyes meet their lips follow and the two are united in a searing, all-consuming kiss. As all else fades away they know nothing more than each other's skin, smell, taste and love. Minutes pass as slow as hours yet nothing is enough to quench her thirst for him or soothe her ache. He pulls away and she follows drawing closer to him unwilling to part. He smirks against her lips. The villain dares to laugh at her after it was his unbreakable will that dragged her here. He smirks again and kisses her suddenly thus shutting her up. As they part, her eyes adjust to light and as her mind regains its function she takes in her surroundings. They were in a vast living room with furnishings that must have been medieval. The bear walls seemed cut in bedrock and at the far end massive bookcases were lined with thousands of ancient looking tomes. She was in heaven. Two black leather seats and a couch sat in front of a massive black fireplace. He guides her towards the couch and follows closely. She tries to sit but feels his hand circling her waist and pulling her in his lap. As their bodies mold into each other she couldn't help but how well they fit together. Why would that surprise her in the end, since it is so obvious that their souls and minds are oh so impeccably matched. Nature has a cruel and funny way of bringing together people with personal histories so perfectly made to keep them apart, only to have them fall madly in love within seconds of meeting. All these things were racing through her mind while his nimble and talented tongue was doing weird and wonderful things to her neck. A gentle suck and lick on the pressure point on the edge of her collarbone almost shutdown her brain completely and extracted a moan from deep within her throat. Eyes fluttering she leaned back to give him better access. His fingers were drawing on her back and making her slowly lose her senses. Their mouths found each other melting and molding. Their tongues were engaged in a battle for dominance that after several minutes left them both panting for air. They part and place their foreheads together as if not wanting to completely break apart.
"So what is this place?" her voice broke the silence…
"My retreat…"
"Oh, but why all the way down here? Why not simply meet in your private chamber?"
"Because there are people who might want something from me and disturb us, or Albus calling through the Floo and we can't very well be screwing our brains out on the couch when it is in front of the fireplace and the Floo is open."
"But what about this fireplace? "
"It's not connected to the network because it is much too old and besides no one knows about this place. It's Salazar's own private chambers where he used to hide from the rest of the world."
"Like us?"
"Like us…"
With that he ended their discussion and started to kiss her again. Everything felt so right that she completely forgot about the world outside, the wars, the spying that they were supposed to do, about the fact that they would probably be killed if anyone found out and focused body and soul on his lips.
Swiftly she was lifted from his lap and he was carrying her towards a door she only now noticed.
"Bedroom I think…"
The smirk he taught her is put to good use upon hearing those words.
"Oh, most definitely…"
The new chamber is a huge bedroom. The walls are draped in thick hunter green felt while the floor is covered in plush rugs that closely resemble summer grass. In the middle of the opposite wall a massive wood-carved four poster bed awaits with its moss silk curtains pulled aside swaying gently in the breeze. Her once brilliant mind is much too drunk on pheromones to register the fact that there cannot be any wind circulation so deep under the castle and far to busy enjoying his delicious ministrations. She abruptly finds herself thrown on to the bed, feet still on the floor, reclining on her elbows while he stood in all his tall, dark glory glaring down at her, eyebrow raised to match his smirk.
"Strip. " the determination in his voice only helped to fuel hers…
"You first. "
His smirk widens to the closest thing to a real smile that he can manage and he begins unbuttoning his teaching robes, which simply land on the floor in a pool of black fabric.
"Tic for tac … your turn."
"Tic"… one of her shoes promptly hits the floor.
"How very wicked of you. I am beginning to think that I am a bad influence on you. "
"Less talking, more stripping, my love. Besides I always believed that ones soulmate brings forth the best in one. So… "
" …I should strip. "
"Exactly. I never get to strip you of more than half your clothing by the time you are ready to rip my knickers of. So this time you get to start and I get to devour you from head to toe. "
"Is this your way of asserting your dominance over me?"
"In a way … I can't overpower you since you are much bigger and to strong so I am manipulating you. It isn't exactly easy to get the upper hand over someone like you. "
"I wasn't aware that you were trying, unless God, yes, fuck me harder! is some obscure feminine way of asserting dominance. Regardless, you should have just asked. I have no problem with … letting you on top … so to speak. "
"Good to know. Now as I recall you were in the middle of something. Concentrate on finishing. "
With that, more and more of his alabaster skin was uncovered until he was left in nothing but his black boxers. He was truly a sight. Tall, with a curtain of long jet-black hair falling on his surprisingly broad shoulders, in stark contrast to his all too white skin, so white it seemed to emanate its own glow. In retrospect, to a believer, he would probably look like some avenging angel, meant to punish the sinners. And in a way he was, to everyone but her. To her he was salvation. The only thing that made her stay sane and still fighting a war she knew lost even before she entered the fray. After she had finally accepted the idea of growing old alone, aloof of love he treads in all his billowing iciness in her life and ignites her heart.
"You think too much…" She is startled from her train of thoughts by his vehement lecturing statement. "Where did you slip of to, just now?"
"The land of perfection…"
"Oh… and where exactly is this place?"
"Right here."
"Flattering but I think not."
"Why not? I have everything I could possibly need right here: comfortable chambers that are warm, hundreds and hundreds of books to read, isolation from the war, Voldemort and Dumbledore, a bed and most importantly … you!" she ended kissing him on the nose. "Deliciously, exquisitely, magnificently brilliant you. " she stated, confidently punctuating each adjective with a languid kiss on his forehead, eyes, chin and, finally, lips.
He deepened the kiss and their tongues were soon engaged in a dance as old as the world itself. Her words were so warm that they melted the final barrier that he kept up when he was with her and he focused all the emotion he hid from everyone into the kiss they shared. It was madly desperate, scorching and held more love and promise than anything he had ever witnessed, let alone experience in his entire life. It was something real and pure and honest and he had played some part in it, and that made him feel like there was still a shot at redemption even for him. Out of air they part, panting.
"You really shouldn't tell a man things like that."
"Oh… and pray tell why not?"
"Because you might find yourself thoroughly shagged afterwards…" he replied with a smirk.
"Brave words."
"Those are more than words…"
"Promise… my angel." She said in a mock voice that sounded more like a dare than anything else.
"Yes." he whispered in her ear, licking the lobe, as he thrust in one fluid motion the entire length of his member in her inviting sleeve.
"Fuck… you bastard. My clothes… you cheated!…"
"And you expected something else from a Slytherin? How very naïve of you… my angel."
Pinned down on the bed, all she could do, short of blasting him to pieces, was to enjoy his kiss. His next thrust sent her nails deep in his shoulder blades while her legs instinctively coiled around his waist.
Yes, this was perfection, a state of which they enjoyed every moment, knowing full well that it was going to end very soon.
